Day Seventy Nine

How are you supposed to stop thinking about a person when that's all you've done for the last two years?

Day Seventy Eight

One emotion trumps all. And it's enough to make me forget any trace of misery.
Embarrassment.

I do recall the time that I accidentally-on purpose masqueraded as a medical student. And then when I was found out, I was forced to write a very odd sounding apology detailing why I hadn't bothered to correct someone's assumption.
Even now the memory burns in my mind and makes me want to bury myself under the blankets in my bed until I can block it out, like a million other embarrassing situations.

Like the time I didn't wear a bra when I went to breakfast at the Hilton hotel at Niagara Falls and thought I could get away with it.

Or the time I sat on my friend's glasses and broke them.

Or the very first time that I swore in front of my parents. I was six and just heard the word at school.

Or the time I took photos of a guyfriend that I had a crush on without thinking about the fact that my (Asian) parents were going to develop the film. I had an hour long lecture about
- boys being the evil of the world
- developing the film was a waste of money

Uggggh. Please cringe on my behalf.

Day Seventy Seven

Sometimes you've just got to try and move on, even though your heart insists on dragging behind you, like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

Also.
Must. Resist. Temptation. To. Contact.
Must. Wait.

Even if it means he won't reply. Even if it means that he's bonding with that flirt right now. Because I have no right to be jealous any more.

Day Seventy Six

The only way to get through it all is to expect nothing at all. Because that way, even a text seems like the world to you.

Day Seventy Five

There isn't a day when I don't miss you.
Grief is funny. It goes around in cycles. I remember when I didn't get into medicine. I cried the day results came out. And I thought I was starting to get over it when it hit me again, a few months later, that I did not get in. So I stayed unhappy for a few more days, cried for a few more days. And to this day, I am still bitter about it.

The same is happening now. I was starting to get better, starting the process of moving on. And now that he's actually physically in Christchurch, it's suddenly struck me that he will not be in Dunedin waiting for me like he has been the last two years. That he won't be outside my flat when I arrive. That he won't be outside that door, knocking. That there's a real possibility that I will not see him again for a very long time, or ever. Sure, he's made plans to come back in April and I plan to go to Christchurch some time. But one thing I learnt is that you can't make plans too ahead in the future because things change. What if the last time that I'll ever see him was the day that we said goodbye at the airport, right before I got on my plane?
But my worst fear is this: that like the medicine issue, I will never get over him. And there's no way to jump back on, like the medicine issue. There's no second chance, no post graduate entry for a relationship that ended because of the stance of two people on an issue that will remain unchanged for both parties.

Life is moving on for him. But life is just so stagnant, so numb and grey for me. It's like I'm just going through the motions and no matter what little encouragement I try to think up for myself, I always start and end the day the same way, wishing that there was a way out.

Day Seventy Four

But on some days when you wake up, regardless of your mindset, you know you're going to have a bad day because you miss them so much.

Day Seventy Three cont.

After some thought, I have come to the following conclusions:
1) Even if he doesn't move on today, he'll move on tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, it'll happen someday. The thing is, I can't just sit here and wait till that happens. There's no point in hoping and wishing that he'll turn around because I need to sort my own stuff out spiritually before I can even hope to help him turn around.

2) Perhaps forgetting is the best present that time brings. Even though this will involve me forgetting all the things that we've done, all those times we had together. Why dwell on the past when life just moves on? Maybe instead of ripping out my stitches every time they try to heal in an effort to keep remembering him, I should just let the wound grow back together.

3) If we're meant to be, it'll happen one day. And even though I can try to prod and push us together, I don't have a final say. God has a plan and regardless if it involves him or if it doesn't involve him, the plan will still be perfect.

Day Seventy Three

Correction. It terrifies me to think that other people already want him. It paralyses me to even consider the possibility of him moving on. To the point where I suffer from nightmares.
All of this simply because some girl decided to use the possessive 'my', followed by a nickname. In limbo. And I cannot even begin to find my way out because I don't know how to.

Day Seventy Two

It's odd... things are so undefined, so indefinite. Usually, this annoys the crap out of me because I like my plans set in stone. However, I'm weirdly happy. I don't know when the next time we'll talk but oddly enough, I'm fine with that. Because he said that we would soon. And because I know that I'll see him in April.
And for now, I'm content just to wait.

Day Seventy One

I'm not sure if this something people usually talk about. But I'm pretty sure that I have the best ex in the world.

Day Seventy

And sometimes, he just surprises you. In a nice way.

But then we're just back to the same conundrum. I want more.

Day Sixty Nine

Prepare for the worst and you'll never be disappointed.

Day Sixty Eight

It's nice to know that misery isn't just one sided.

Day Sixty Seven

Still not ready. Jealousy rears its ugly green head so quickly. So does possessiveness, even though I know that he feels nothing for this person. Still, a nickname as innocent as the one used by her is enough to set me off.

Day Sixty Six

It's nice to know that he still cares. But I swear at the moment, the only obstacle to me getting over him is the fact that I still want to feel something for him, ergo, the pain.
What sort of masochist does that?

Day Sixty Five

Must not think.
Must not contact.
Must wait (although, we all know the outcome... being crushed hope).

And crushed car. It's obvious that I cannot be deep in thought and drive at the same time.

Day Sixty Four

I must stop thinking so much. There is no point. The more I think, the more I slip backwards. I was perfectly fine when I woke up. It wasn't until I thought about him and what he was doing that I began to slowly find myself falling back into the spiral that I've been trying to claw myself out of.
Idle minds make mischief too. And if I wasn't working full time these holidays, I would certainly go mad.

Day Sixty Three

Distraction found: contact lenses.
Feeling so much better than I thought I would be at this point. But the same remains: I fear the day he moves on.

Day Sixty Two

Maybe he does care still.

Day Sixty One

Must. Resist. Temptation. To. Contact.
Although I might just die a little inside.

It's fine if he wants to play Starcraft because that's the way he relaxes. Of course, it would be nice if he would talk to me. But he no longer has an obligation to make me feel better. So really, it's just empty hope... which will be crushed.
Also, I'm pretty sure he doesn't give a rat's hairy ass about my life at the moment. And I don't want to do what some other girls do, whereby I harrass some guy to the point that he has no choice, but to talk to me about inane matters that the guy does not give a rat's hairy ass about.

Day Fifty Nine and Sixty

It's nice to hear from him. But the human mind is stupid. At first, you're satisfied with a few texts, and then you start to want more from him. Which of course, you're not going to get. So you become disappointed, which was why in the beginning, you promised yourself that a few texts would be enough to make you happy.
This is lame.

Day Fifty Eight

Each and every night I cannot wait
for blissful unconsciousness to come.
For in my dreams I can once again
hold your hand in mine once more.
To feel your arms wrapped around
and hold me close like you used to.
When morning comes around
we'll leave each other with a promise
to see one another when night falls.

Day Fifty Seven

Sometimes I wonder if going cold turkey would've been a better alternative because now I'm still just as dependent on hearing from him, as I was fifty seven days ago.

Day Fifty Three, Fifty Four, Fifty Five and Fifty Six

The more I give, the more I expect back. The stakes are high and the dividends are high too, but if I get them or not depends on him. He's not in a position to give back, so the only way to look after myself is just to stop giving so much. If I don't have those expectations, then I won't get hurt so easily. Of course, such resolutions are always made in the morning after making an ass out of oneself and by nightfall, it all starts to unravel, leaving only the little self respect I have for myself disappearing like the sunlight.

Day Fifty Two

Sometimes I feel like I can do it, that someday I'll get over you and that we can continue to be good, if not best friends. Some days, like today, it feels like I'm so alone and I miss you so damn much, it feels like something is missing inside of me. It's so odd, this facade of happiness. I can't let other people see how much I hurt because I'm me, supposedly implacable, unbreakable. Only you knew how weak I am truly. Other times, I am truly happy when I'm with other people, but it's not the same warmth that I get when I'm with you.
It's horrible that we both feel what we do and we can't disclose our feelings to each other on a whim because that's not what exes are supposed to do.

Because I'm going to snap soon and tell you just how much I miss you.

Day Fifty One

We're back to status quo and all is right with the world again. And it just shows how I'm still not over him yet because I'm willing to forgive and forget. When I think about it, if someone had gone off like that and refused to listen to why I was upset, I probably would've gone about trying to ruin their life. I already tried to screw around with a friend who I thought was being a ditcher, let alone, someone who ranted at me when I was trying to help.

So I'm not quite ready to walk away. Not just yet.





postscript: i still miss him and it still gives me a massive lurch when he admits it too.

Day Fifty

I understand that you're stressed. You're worried that you'll have wasted everyone's time and that you'll be assessed on things that you haven't studied. So I tried to tell you that you'd be fine and pass.
But then you just swore at me. Repeatedly.

It's funny. You've never sworn at me, even when we've had fights when we were still dating. The most you've done is call me a jerk. There are two ways I can go about things.
1. Keep on being understanding and just ignore the fact that you swore at me because you're stressed
2. Give up. You don't swear at your friends, let alone your girlfriends. And as your friend, I don't have to put up with it, especially when I was just trying to help. Sure, you wanted a different reaction from me. But you didn't need to swear at me.

What else was I supposed to do? I just said I was sorry, asked you what you wanted from me. You apologised too. I don't even know if you know what you did. I have to be cautious of what I say to you now because I don't want to set you off. Just tell me why.

Day Forty Nine

Beating out of my chest
my heart is holding on
to you.
(Sara Bareilles 'The Light').

You were right, what you said. It's funny because all my memories involve you. It's hard to look back on anything without smiling that sad little smile because I remember that you were there too.

Day Forty Eight

A letter is like a window from the past. And unfortunately, you're left uncertain if your former significant other still feels the way as he did when he penned your said letter.